


Mr. Nanny

by vassalady



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 22:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One summer, Steve is hired to care for Loki’s five children: Natasha, Thor, Tony, Bruce, and little Clint. However, despite mishaps, tempers, and detours, Steve and Loki find themselves falling for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Nanny

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [alekibutt's gorgeous art](http://alekibutt.livejournal.com/805.html). Remember to let him know what you think!
> 
> So this story is a little _Nanny Diaries_ and a bit more _Sound of Music_. When I saw Alek’s art, i was instantly charmed by the idea, and I was ecstatic to write for it. I hope people enjoy it and find it lives up at least a little to the art.
> 
> Thank you to my friend K for the beta, who pointed out a lot of this story’s flaws, which I did my best to fix. Lingering mistakes are my fault due to revisions. <3

Steve was running late for his very first interview since posting his ad. This was just perfect. Who would want to hire him now? If, and more likely when, he didn’t get this job, he was going to kill Bucky for keeping him up late last night.

When it came down to Steve’s livelihood or helping Bucky with his father-to-be insecurities, he really should have picked his livelihood.

He found the cafe on Madison Avenue south of 66th. Of course, now was the problem of knowing who there was Mr. Loki Odinson. Maybe Steve shouldn’t have bothered showing up at all. He scanned the crowd, ignoring the obvious tourists and the women with Gucci and Prada bags. But that seemed to be all who was there. No one looked like a single father of five.

Then, he heard a polite cough and an, “Excuse me,” from behind. He looked down at an older, well-dressed man. A pleasant smile crossed his equally pleasant face. “Mr. Steve Rogers?”

“Ah, yes!” Relief flooded Steve. He grinned and held out his hand. “So sorry I’m late, subway got held up.” A total lie, but Steve was desperate. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Odinson.”

 

The man’s smile didn’t waver as he said, “Oh, I'm not Mr. Odinson.” Steve felt his face heat instantly. “I’m Phil Coulson, Mr. Odinson’s personal assistant. We spoke on the phone.”

Steve latched on to that. “Yes! Of course, Mr. Coulson. Good to meet you.”

Phil Coulson fit almost perfectly the mental image Steve had from their brief phone conversation. But there was something about him that set Steve a little on edge. Maybe it was just that he decided Steve’s future.

“And you.” Coulson indicated the only empty table. “Come, let’s sit.”

Steve declined the offer for coffee, and Coulson didn’t waste any time in starting the interview. He asked Steve questions that ranged from where he went to school to what he thought of the current administration to what his hobbies were. Steve tripped over himself in an attempt to answer both honestly and as inoffensively as he could.

“How much do you drink per week?”

“Oh, a beer here and there. But only in my free time. Weekends.”

“How do you function under pressure?”

“Very well, I’d say. With the high pressure from-”

“And if asked to describe where children come from by one of your charges, how would you respond?”

“Well, uh, that’s up to their parents and teachers.”

Coulson closed his binder with a snap. “Well, I think that’s it. Your background check was clear, and I think you’ll fit nicely with the Odinson household.”

Background check? Steve gave Coulson a shaky smile. “Good to hear it.”

Coulson held out his hand. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Rogers.”

Baffled, relieved, and very grateful to be employed, Steve took Coulson’s hand a little roughly. “Thank you so much. I’m really excited to work with the kids.”

He went out with Bucky and Peggy to celebrate that night. But he had to cut the celebrations short, because Coulson had given him files to read, and Steve was leaving in a few days.

Bucky shook his head as they parted ways at the station. “A live-in, and you haven’t done this before.”

“I did take childcare classes.”

“But really, why don’t you become an art teacher or something instead?”

Steve shrugged. “Maybe someday. Though that’ll probably mean ed classes.”

Peggy chuckled at that. She leaned up and kissed Steve’s cheek, her protruding belly pressing against him. “You don’t have to say ‘ed classes’ with such disgust.”

“Sorry, next time I’ll say it with more elation.”

Steve waved as they jogged off to catch their train. He couldn’t tell them he’d asked for a quick start date. Rent he couldn’t pay was due in a week, and this way, he didn’t have to ask them if he - and his stuff - could crash on their couch for who knew how long.

 

That was definitely a mansion, no doubt about it. Steve just shook his head slightly, amazed. It... It wasn’t unexpected, with the Odinsons living well outside the city on a CEO’s salary, but it still took his breath away.

Coulson greeted him at the door “Mr. Rogers,” Coulson said. “Come in. Mr. Odinson is currently out, but he will be back soon.”

“Thanks.” Steve picked up his bags and moved past Coulson into what was a very fancy lobby. It was bigger than his whole apartment, with marble and fine wood and a dark solid banister lining stairs that sharply climbed to a second story.

Coulson was as exceedingly polite as he had been at the cafe, but Steve couldn't shake this feeling that there was something dangerous about him. Coulson smiled congenially and led him into an office.

He had a few last things to give Steve before he met the kids, which included keys (including one to his own bedroom, thank god), more folders filled with information on the children, including dietary recommendations and what Mr. Odinson wanted of both them and Steve, and a verbal rundown of other pertinent information concerning Steve's stay.

As Coulson moved about the office, gathering papers and rattling off instructions, Steve recognized a very familiar pattern.

"What division?" he asked, interrupting Coulson explaining transportation available to Steve.

Coulson took a moment before replying, "Air force. And I worked for the Secret Service for some time, too. I manage Mr. Odinson’s security, along with his personal life.”

Steve whistled low. “Wow.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I was army. Nothing special after that.”

Coulson smiled. “I know. It’s in your job application and background check.”

Steve thought about asking about this background check that kept coming up, but thought better of it.

“I will also need to go over security with you, Mr. Rogers,” Coulson continued. “But I seem to have lost your attention, so that can wait for another day.”

“Sorry.” Some impression he was making first day on the job.

Coulson didn’t seem bothered though. He waved Steve toward the door. “I’ll show you to your room, and then you’ll meet the children.”

After going through what seemed like too many hallways for one house to have, they ended up in what was probably a small room for the mansion, but was larger than any bedroom Steve had ever had and certainly larger than he had expected. But he wasn’t given much time to look as Coulson only let him deposit his bags before whisking him off again through another series of halls Steve couldn’t quite keep up with. Thankfully, there were far less this time.

They entered a room that was covered in all kinds of toys and in which sat five very fidgety children. They were all dressed up and all looked equally unhappy.

One of them, the only girl and the one who looked the oldest, looked up as Steve and Coulson entered and said, “Finally.”

Coulson nodded to them all. “This is Mr. Rogers. He will be your new caretaker.”

“The new nanny, you mean,” the girl said.

“I thought nannies were supposed to be girls,” said one of the boys, a dark-haired kid with a clever glint in his eye.

Steve chose to ignore the comment. He smiled at them all, as cheerfully as he could, and said, “You can call me Steve.”

Coulson pointed to the children as he introduced them. “Natasha,” he said, indicating the girl, “Thor,” this to the cheerful blond boy playing with toy goats, “Tony,” this the question kid, “and Bruce and Clint,” the last two sitting across from each other with large Legos, the younger looking no older than three. Steve was pretty sure he was only two, with his third birthday in several months. This information had all been in the files Coulson gave him when he first took the job, which he read thoroughly, but he couldn’t remember all of it.

The children looked up at him like a court martial panel. Steve knew instantly that they were all very smart and all very used to getting their way.

On paper, this had seemed easy. Facing these five kids, Steve felt incredibly in over his head.

He grinned, held up his hand, and said the only thing he could think to say. “Anyone want to play ball?”

 

To his great relief, ball turned out to be an acceptable distraction. They had to change out of their nice clothing, which had Steve panicked for a moment because he didn’t know where anything was, including their rooms. But Tony said to follow him, and he swaggered ahead down the maze of halls. Somehow or another, Steve got everyone into play clothes, and they went out into the yard behind the house to throw around a couple balls that still looked pretty new.

Steve, Clint, and Bruce played together while the older three threw their ball at each other much more viciously. Steve kept an eye out, but they seemed to know how much they could all take. In a couple hours, they were exhausted, dirty, and grinning like pint-sized maniacs

"Good choice," Tony said.

"Tony!" Natasha said. She crossed her arms. “Behave.”

Tony glared at her and hunched his shoulders. “Didn’t say nothing bad.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve cut in. “Now there’s nothing for anyone to be upset about, ok?”

Natasha, whom Steve thought would be the easiest at twelve years old, gave him a look that clearly meant she thought he was a little dumb.

Clint then became badly in need of a diaper change, and Steve scrambled to find Clint and Bruce’s room, as well as a dry diaper and wipes. Then he lost track of Tony, which led to the discovery of a snake in his bed, and Thor and Natasha got into a fight (Natasha’s fault, Thor claimed, while she denied everything), and there was still the case of getting them all cleaned up and getting them dinner before their father came home.

Steve took a moment to take a deep breath. He could manage this. It just took a slight shift in his thinking. He knew how to take care of kids. He had the certificates to prove it.

Feeling a little more stable, Steve went back to Professional Child Wrangling.

 

Dinner went smoother than he expected. The kids’ focus returned when there was food to eat, and although Tony and Natasha kept stealing Thor’s food when he wasn’t looking, everyone remained more or less calm. Steve just hoped that he wouldn’t get in trouble for resorting to mac and cheese with broccoli. There was a suggested menu somewhere in the piles of paper he had, but, right now, he just needed them fed.

This job was getting much trickier than he had imagined very quickly.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, Coulson came in to tell them to wait in the living room. Loki would be home shortly.

Like out of a game, the living room’s theme seemed to be green. There was a green rug under green couches, with green sheer curtains draped over the windows, and the walls were a shade of green, too. What wasn’t green was a deep, rich brown from wood or coated with gold or silver leaf. It strangely went together, though. Maybe they called it the Green Room. Didn’t rich people do that, because they got bored?

There was a fireplace in the middle of one wall, marble, gold, and big enough to fit all five children in it if they were so inclined. A family portrait hung over the mantelpiece. In it, Loki stood to the left with his children standing in a huddle at his side. They looked like a happy family. Loki smiled, and Steve felt it was a gentle smile. Loki was a handsome man, with sharp features. The kids hit the jackpot in terms of genetics. They were all ridiculously cute now, but clearly, if their father was any indication, they would grow into a group of very attractive adults.

The portrait had to be very recent. Clint hardly looked any younger. Bruce and Tony weren’t even paying attention to the camera, but Thor and Natasha more or less posed. Natasha, however, didn’t even bother with a smile. Towering above his children, Loki rested a hand on Clint’s head and a hand on Natasha’s shoulder. He smiled at the camera, wrinkles around his eyes becoming more prominent. He looked like a kind man, if a little sad.

Steve looked back at the children. They sat stiffly in their chairs, hardly resembling the portrait.

Time inched along. Steve felt awkward waiting. Maybe a game would be good, something simple like a word association game. But before he could propose this, the door opened, and Loki Odinson strode into the room.

Steve stood in a rush. To his surprise, the children did, too.

Loki first looked to his kids. His expression was warm, and a slight smile crossed his face. “Good evening,” he said to them.

They more or less chorused together, “Good evening.”

Then Loki’s gaze turned on Steve, and all the warmth was gone. “Mr. Steve Rogers?”

“Yes.” Steve may have stood a little straighter.

“I trust you’re settling in fine? Coulson has gone over everything with you?”

“Yes, sir.” The “sir” just slipped out, as if Steve was still in boot camp.

Loki nodded, once. He looked almost surreal, too put together for a man just returned from a day at the office. His dark hair was slicked back, ending below the nape of his neck, his suit was still pressed and looked as if he had only just put it on instead of wearing it all day. Even his hands looked spotless, nails trim and clean skin smooth.

He walked behind one of the couches, his fingers brushing over Natasha and Tony’s heads as he passed. It was a strangely intimate gesture that clashed with his cold demeanor.

Steve held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Loki did not take his hand. “Coulson has already given you a preliminary rundown of what is expected of you.”

“Yes.”

Loki stood near the fireplace. His gaze swept over Steve, and he hummed. Steve didn’t know if it was a good hum or a bad hum.

“It’s getting near their bedtime.” And just like that, he was dismissed, Loki sweeping towards a cabinet that held a decanter and glasses.

Steve gaped for a moment before collecting himself. “Uh, yes, sir.”

He herded the children out. They quietly played a round of Life in the playroom before Steve attempted getting them all in bed. They went quietly and willingly, for which he was grateful. But the difference in their moods between that afternoon and that night worried him late into the night.

Steve had met many different kinds of families during his life. He and Bucky, essentially brothers from the moment they met while in foster care, were far from traditional. But Steve had never before met a family that embodied the same strained, polite intimacy Loki had with his children.

 

Every day was a new battle. Since it was summer, the kids didn’t have formal classes, although they had tutors come in. The few hours that Steve could pass them off to their lessons was very much appreciated

One afternoon, he set the kids up in the playroom and then caught Jane Foster, their science tutor, on her way out.

“Isn’t it a long trip out here?” he asked.

Jane shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a long commute, but it’s worth the money.” She slung her bag across her back. “A few hours a week here, and I don’t have to worry about finding a job outside of my research.”

“Sounds cool. Well, I’ll be seeing you.... Tuesday?”

“That’s it. See you, Steve.”

The door still closing behind Jane, Steve turned to find the children huddled against the stair banister

“Are you in love with Jane?” Tony asked, loudly.

“What? When’d you-”

“Thor is,” Natasha said with a grin.

Thor immediately yelled, “Am not!”

“Are, too!” Natasha shot back.

“Am not!”

“Are, too!”

“Am not!”

“Enough!” He couldn’t deal with one of Thor and Natasha’s games of one-upmanship right now. “Let’s play together, shall we?”

Steve hadn’t seen Loki since that first evening. He knew Loki was busy, but it had been four days now. It was not what Steve had expected.

The next day was Friday. Sometime in the afternoon, Steve lost track of the kids. It wasn’t his fault. Tony had said there was an emergency in the living room. When Steve arrived, Tony locked him in. Steve was forced to climb out the window. He began searching the house for the kids, but he couldn’t find any trace of them. Now, where would he go if he were a rich little brat?

The nanny’s room. Of course.

Steve rested his hand on the doorknob, trying not to think too much about the inevitable mess it would be in. He closed his eyes, counted to three, and then pushed it open.

Five heads popped up from the floor to stare at him. The children were surrounded by loose sheets and open drawing pads. Steve tried not to panic. His paintings, at least, were in storage where they couldn’t destroy them.

“What are you doing?” Steve said, trying to be firm without letting the anger and panic rise up.

The children glanced among themselves, as if deciding who should speak first. “These are really cool,” Natasha said at last.

“I didn’t know you could draw. This is awesome!” Tony held up a cartoon drawing of a giant bear with a metal arm.

Steve took the pad from Tony’s hands, grateful that his art school nudes - both his own drawings and others’ that he had modeled for - were still buried away. Looking more closely at the mess, it looked like nothing had been damaged; it was just in disarray. Steve took a seat on the bed, one of the few clear spaces.

“Draw me something!” Thor said, plopping down next to Steve on the bed. Tony jumped up to his other side, Natasha on the other end of the bed, and Clint and Bruce looked up at him expectantly from the floor.

“What do you want?” So he was a pushover when it came to someone liking his art. He decided he could forgive them for messing around in his room.

“A robot!’ Tony shouted in his ear.

“A dragon!”

“A monster!”

“A kitty!”

Steve asked over his shoulder, “What about you, Nat?”

She took a moment to respond. “A girl riding a motorcycle. With a sword.”

Steve began sketching. He just did quick little doodles, cartoonish and rough. A large-eyed cat chased a ball that a classic robot rolled for it. A tiny winged dragon and Frankenstein's monster danced together. And in the corner, a cartoon version of Natasha drove past wielding a katana.

The drawings weren’t much, but the kids were suitably impressed. “Awesome!” Tony said, bouncing up and down. “Do more!”

“Another time,” Steve said, ruffling his hair. “Come on, let’s get you guys cleaned up for dinner. Your father will be home soon.”

That perked them all up. Friday nights were family dinners, no matter what, Tony helpfully informed Steve.

Dinner smelled delicious. Loki had someone come in to cook dinner now and then, and Steve was glad for the break. That night, there was roast chicken, grilled vegetables, a rice pilaf, and an assorted fruit salad. Steve also knew there was a fancy pudding in the fridge. The kids took their places, eager for their father to come home.

They sat around the table, the food growing cold. Another hour passed painfully slow. Then Clint began to cry. Steve collected him in his arms and asked Natasha if she could take the others to the playroom; he would bring food and treats up to them.

Once Clint began to quiet down with a popsicle in his highchair, which he was getting a little big for, Steve threw together a large platter full of sandwiches, peanut butter and jelly, bacon, turkey, and cheese ones. The kids ate them eagerly, and when the sandwiches were mostly gone, Steve fetched some ice cream and six spoons. They sat around eating straight from the tub as they watched Spongebob on the widescreen TV.

 

“Did you all brush your teeth?” Steve said as the children filed out of the bathroom. He rocked Clint in his arms, who had fallen asleep while watching TV. Clint had continued to sleep as Steve changed him into pajamas.

The children chorused, “Yes,” and went into their rooms.

Steve followed Bruce to tuck in Clint. Bruce watched Steve’s movements from his bed, blanket pulled up to his chin.

“Steve?” he whispered.

“Yeah?” Steve perched on the edge of his bed, brushing a curl off of Bruce’s forehead.

“I miss Daddy.”

Before Steve could respond - and hell if he knew what to say - he heard the door open. Natasha, Thor, and Tony shuffled in.

“Is there something wrong?” Steve asked. But they didn’t need to say anything as the three joined Steve and Bruce on the bed. Bruce crawled into Steve’s lap, giving enough room for his brothers and sister.

Steve didn’t have the heart to shoo them out. So he fetched a few books and read until each had fallen asleep. Carefully, he picked each one up and took them to their own rooms.

Steve sat in the lounge by the foyer reading until well after midnight, but Loki still wasn’t home. He eventually gave up a little while later and went to bed.

 

It was Saturday, and Loki didn’t work at his office on Saturdays. But he wasn’t at breakfast, nor did Steve see him all morning. At last, he saw Coulson walking down a hall with a tablet in hand, and he asked, “Um, is Mr. Odinson around?”

Coulson replied, without looking up from his tablet, “His office.”

Steve knew where Loki’s office was, but he had never been in. The door was perpetually shut. That afternoon, when the kids were preoccupied with a movie, Steve stood outside the door, palms sweating. He was really dumb for doing this. But he couldn’t just let it go, not with how disappointed the kids had been last night.

Steve took a deep breath, and then he knocked. From the other side of the door, he heard a muffled, “Come in.”

He slipped into the office. It wasn’t as large as Steve could have imagined, but it was roomy, with wood paneling peeking through the few spaces not occupied by bookshelves. Maybe it doubled as a library; there were enough books for one. Toward the back, Loki bent over his large oak desk, wide enough to be a proper table. He was reading through some papers, making notations, and occasionally glancing at one of three computer monitors on his desk. He paid no attention to Steve as Steve shuffled further into the room.

Steve waited a moment and then another. Loki kept his attention toward his work. Finally, Steve cleared his throat and said, “Um, excuse me.”

Loki’s pen paused. He looked at Steve, not moving his head, just flicking his gaze up. Very slowly, he placed his pen down, organized his papers, and then straightened up, hands crossed on his desk. His mouth was downturned, lips thin. “What is it?”

Steve felt distinctly uncomfortable, much like he was in the principal’s office at school. “I was, uh, wondering if I could take the kids into the city next weekend?” he said. “I know it’s not on the schedule, but there’s a kids fair at Central Park, and I think it would do the kids good to get off the grounds.”

Loki’s frown deepened. He leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced underneath his chin. “You are supposed to approve all such trips through Coulson.”

“I asked, but he said no without considering it at all.” That was a lie. There was a kids fair next weekend, but Steve hadn’t bothered asking Coulson yet. It was a bit cheap, maybe, using this as a pretext, but Steve was neither a saint nor perfect. He took a deep breath before he continued. “If I may say, they are your children, and I think you should be a little more involved in their life.”

“Are you telling me how to raise my children? After a week in my employment?” Instead of sounding angry, Loki sounded almost amused.

“You hired me to watch out for them. That’s what I’m doing.”

“You’re completely right, Mr. Rogers. They are my children.” Loki stood, and though he wasn’t much taller than Steve, Steve felt dwarfed by him. “I will choose to raise them as I will. I can hire someone else, you know.”

“You can hire someone else, but they can’t get a new father. You’re what they’ve got.”

He’d gone too far. He knew it by the way Loki stood, calm, but sinister. “I do believe you have a job to do, Mr. Rogers.” Loki spoke quietly, lips quirked up in a smile that was anything but friendly. “And I recommend that, should you wish to remain on this property any longer, you keep such opinions to yourself. Have a good day. I trust you can at least find the door on your own.”

Steve wanted to say more. But he bit back the words, breathing harshly through his nose, and left without another word.

When he returned to the lounge, the movie was still on in the background, but none of the kids were watching it. Instead, Natasha and Thor were on top of one another, hands flying, screeches filling the air, with the other three as fascinated spectators.

“Hey, hey!” Steve cut in between them, but they still reached around him, trying to get at each other. Stray fists ran into his legs and torso. “Stop it!”

“What’s going on in here?”

Natasha and Thor froze. They turned slowly to their father who stood in the doorway, the embodiment of parental power and terror.

Steve felt like one of the kids, too. He wanted to hide.

“I don’t know what got them started,” Steve began, “but Thor and Natasha were fighting-”

Loki took three long strides into the room. His gaze passed from Thor to Natasha. “Natasha. Thor. You are not to fight in this house. Ever.”

“Yes, sir,” they mumbled.

“You’re to sit in my office and think about what you’ve done.”

“You’re in trouble,” Tony said in a sing-song voice. Loki’s eyes snapped to him.

“One more word, Tony, and you’ll be in there, too.”

Tony gaped at Loki before ducking his head down, mouth tight and fists clenched. Thor and Natasha looked at each other, comrades now, and walked slowly from the room. On his way out, Loki paused to say to Steve, “Mr. Rogers, I expect you to have greater control from now on.”

Great. Now Steve really couldn’t just let this go.

 

Loki didn’t look up when he heard someone enter. He supposed it had to be Steve; despite Steve’s accusations, Loki knew his children well. He could identify each simply by the way they entered a room. And it certainly wasn’t Coulson, who always knocked.

He turned another page in his book. Steve could show his hand by making the first move if he wanted. Loki was not about to concede him anything.

“I didn’t mean to offend you this afternoon,” Steve said.

Loki couldn’t stop his snort. “I think that’s exactly what you meant to do.” He was pleased Steve didn’t try to deny it.

Steve stood at almost parade rest, which amused Loki. “Is there anything else you’d like to say?” Loki said, feeling like a general with a nervous private. “It’s rather late, and we both have busy schedules tomorrow.” Loki wanted to go through the latest reports from R&D and legal before work on Monday.

Steve took a breath before speaking. God, it was like watching a scared, but dumb puppy face down a robber.

“I can’t tell you how to raise your children. But you hired me to do it, and I’m going to do it the best I can.” Steve didn’t break eye contact as he spoke. “And while your children want you, if you’re not willing to be there, then I will.”

Loki clenched his fists, the bite of his nails grounding him. “Like the discipline I saw you administer earlier today?” Steve’s face turned grim. “Ah, yes, that’s right, I believe I dealt with that problem. I have to say, I’m surprised by your lack of control. And now you’re the one saying I can’t take care of my own children.”

“I didn’t mean-” Steve clearly wanted to say something very different than that. Loki took a smug pleasure at that.

“Of course you didn’t. Because my failings alone will suit your needs while any evidence on my parental experience will be systematically ignored. I both like and dislike former military personnel for that very reason.”

“Is my military background why I got hired in the first place?”

Loki rested his head against the back of his hand, letting Steve consider his own words. The way Steve held himself a little more stiffly gave him away. He was insecure.

“Yes,” Loki said after a moment. “There are very few child caretakers with your background. And I prefer my children are safe with all the people I charge to take care of them.”

Steve’s face first paled and then shifted to a bright red. Then, without another word, he pivoted on a foot and left.

Loki glanced back down at his book. He tried to concentrate on the words, but something irked him. He couldn’t concentrate. He shut the book, placing it on the end table next to him, and leaned back in his chair, eyes closed.

 

Steve escaped the room, closing the door as quickly and quietly as he could. He let out a breath, head hanging. Shit.

“Sorry.”

He looked up sharply. Natasha stood against the wall opposite, sombre.

“Dad wasn’t always like this,” Natasha said. She glanced down at her feet. “I mean, his moods often shifted quickly, but he was more fun when Mom was alive.”

Steve crossed the hall to stand next to her. “You miss her, huh?”

Natasha nodded. “It’s easier for Clint and Bruce, even Tony. Thor still cries sometimes, though he won’t admit it.”

“And you make fun of him for it?”

Natasha’s gaze met Steve's sharply. “Not for that. Never for that.”

Steve rested his head against the wood paneling. “Why were you fighting with Thor today?”

Natasha’s attention shifted back to the floor in front of her. She shrugged. “It wasn’t anything.”

“Thor said you started it.”

Again, Natasha shrugged. “If he says so.”

“Natasha. Please. What happened?”

“Nothing.” She pushed herself off the wall and headed toward her room.

There was no winning with anyone today.

 

His chance with Natasha came a few days later. Thor refused to help clean up the playroom. Natasha told him he had to, because she said so, and another fight ensued.

Steve gave them each a time out and, making sure the younger kids were safely engaged with a movie (and maybe he was relying a little too much on films), went to talk to Natasha.

She sat sullenly on the couch, glaring at her bare knees that stuck out from her shorts.

Steve sat carefully beside her. “You don’t have to try to be your mom.”

Natasha bristled. “I am not!” She scooted away.

“It's not wrong being a kid.”

“I’m not a little kid.”

“But you are still.”

In a rush, she stood. “Stop saying that! It’s what you all think. Dad, you, Coulson, the teachers... Everyone thinks I’m some little kid who needs everything done for them like Clint!”

Steve couldn’t help but smile. He knew he shouldn’t smile; it would only anger her further. But this argument was all too familiar.

“You know,” he said slowly, patting the couch seat beside him for her to sit again, “my mom once said I was too serious.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Steve didn’t know what to think about that comment so he ignored it. “I got so caught up in trying to be an adult. I wanted to be the man of the house; my dad died when I was just a little kid.”

Natasha, who had been kicking her feet out, stilled.

“And I was so tired of being told what to do. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to help my mom. So I started talking about taxes and bills and working without a clue what any of it meant.”

“And your mom told you to just enjoy being a kid?”

“Well, she did say that. But what really got to me was her sitting me down and explaining everything. She said that if I wanted to know anything, whether it be taxes or bills or-” Or where babies came from. “Or anything at all, I just had to ask, and she would tell me.”

He glanced down at Natasha. She was chewing her nails, probably without even really realizing it. It was charmingly childish. After a moment, she said, “So if I ask you about something, you’ll tell me?”

“I’ll treat you like an adult if you want me to, Natasha.”

After another moment of silence, she nodded. “But...” She hesitated and chewed off another nail. “You’re not going to make me act like one if I don’t want.”

She leaned into his side as he said, “Enjoy being a kid.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

 

Clint usually slept straight through until morning, but there was the rare occasion when he began to cry in the middle of the night. Steve scrambled for his clock. Shit, it was not even five. He groaned and laid back again. No. He couldn’t.

He dragged himself out of bed and slipped through the door that adjoined his to Clint’s and Bruce’s. Bruce was wide awake, too, which was just great. Steve threw Bruce a smile to try to relax him as he scooped up Clint from his bed.

“Shhh,” he murmured, rocking Clint against his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Hungry,” Clint wailed, barely able to get out the word between his shuddering gasps.

Steve rubbed his back sympathetically. “Ok, shh, I’ll get you something.” He looked to Bruce. “You ok by yourself?”

Bruce nodded and slipped back under his blanket.

Steve made for the kitchen quickly, hoping Clint didn’t wake the other kids. To his surprise, the kitchen lights were already on, and Loki was standing at the island, phone in one hand and toast in the other. He was also wearing the most garish plaid flannel pajamas Steve had ever seen, an ugly color that one might call “puce” and made his skin look yellow and sickly. His hair was also partially sticking up. It was completely incongruous with everything Steve knew about him. Steve couldn’t help a little snort of laughter.

That startled Loki. He snapped his head up, mouth a little slack and eyes wide. But within seconds, his expression closed.

Steve realized he was only in pajama bottoms, and he promptly blushed, the red running all the way down to his chest.

“Uh, Clint was hungry, so...” Steve bounced Clint a little, who had calmed down to just sniveling.

“I’ll do it.” Loki plucked Clint from Steve’s arms and settled him easily into the high chair. He grabbed a sippy cup and filled it with milk and then gave Clint chopped pieces of banana.

Steve decided to get himself some breakfast while down here, and he settled on a bowl of corn flakes. Loki sat down at the table across from him, tablet in hand, looking intently at the screen. He continued to slowly eat his toast.

“Has Coulson informed you of my birthday party approaching?” Loki said without preamble.

“Huh?” Steve looked up at Loki, but Loki wasn’t looking at him. “Oh, uh, yes.” Steve laughed. “Just so long as it doesn’t involve dancing.”

“You don’t know how to dance?” Loki’s eyes slowly left his tablet to gaze at Steve.

Steve toyed with his spoon. “It’s not... I mean, I can dance.” He pushed his cereal back and forth, not meeting Loki’s eyes. “Just not well. And not... formal dancing either.”

“So club dancing is all.”

“Barely even that.” Bucky and Peggy had dragged him out to clubs before, but he still felt like he was in high school, a scrawny little geek, around any cute guys that tried to dance with him, so he retreated to the wall with a drink every time. “An ex tried to teach me once, but he pretty quickly gave up on me.”

“Hmm.” Loki considered Steve for a moment, tablet momentarily forgotten. Steve didn’t like being under Loki’s scrutiny. It was far too intense, and he always felt like Loki was plotting something.

In this case, it turned out he was. A moment later, Loki said, “Then we’ll start lessons tomorrow.”

“Huh?”

“As soon as my children are asleep, come down to my office. I’ll teach you.”

“I...” Teach him how to dance? Had Loki gone mad?

“I can’t have my children’s caretaker not knowing how to dance.”

“I... Thanks. I think.”

Loki looked at him for a long moment before saying, “You really know how to express gratitude.”

“When I stop thinking this is a wholly bad idea, I’ll be properly grateful. How about that?”

Loki took a moment before replying, “It’ll have to do.”

 

This was a futile endeavor. Loki groaned as Steve stepped on his toes for the fourth time in the last five minutes.

“Starting again,” Loki said through clenched teeth.

 

Steve appeared just as fed up with this as he was. “Why do I need to know how to waltz?”

“It’s one of the basics of formal dance!”

“No one waltzes at parties!”

“I always waltzed at parties as a child.”

“Well, when I was a kid, they just told us not to grind.”

Deep breaths. He needed to take several deep breaths and practice patience. “You can waltz if you only put your mind to it.”

“I am!” Steve whined. He was like a little child. “It’s hard, though.”

When Steve stepped - hard - on his foot again, Loki had had it. Fine, he’d treat Steve like a child if that’s what it took.

“Stand on my feet.”

“What?” Steve looked at him as if he’d just suggested they go sky-diving instead after Steve revealing his acrophobia.

“I said stand on my feet.” Loki held out his hands and motioned for Steve to step forward.

“Aren’t I stepping on your feet enough?”

Loki resisted rolling his eyes. He hadn’t rolled his eyes since his thirties. “You needn’t fully stand on them, just enough to follow me. Come on. This is how I learned.”

Steve still protested, but with another firm word from Loki, he eventually acquiesced. He gingerly rested his toes atop Loki’s shoes.

Loki pulled Steve close to him. “Follow my lead.”

He could feel Steve’s breath against as his skin as he began to move Steve around in a very basic three step. He stepped backward, so Steve would learn how to lead.

For a few minutes, they kept going like that. Steve was clenching his hands a little too tightly around Loki, but his face was set in determination, glaring down at his feet. Soon, Loki began guiding Steve in circles around the room. Several times, Steve faltered, losing touch with Loki’s feet.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t or won’t?” Loki said it more sharply than he meant to. Steve hung his head like a chastised child. “We’ll continue tomorrow.”

“No, just give me a minute. I can do this.”

This was impossible. Tony had been easier to teach when he was three, and he hated practicing.

Steve walked to the other side of the room. He stopped with a hip cocked, hands at his waist, and head down. He muttered to himself, but Loki didn’t bother trying to listen. His eyes drifted down his back. Steve’s shirt looked far too tight. His sweats weren’t the most fashionable, certainly, but they fit a little better than his shirt. They did hang off his hips in this way that-

And Loki was officially staring, and that was highly inappropriate. Moving on.

“Let’s get started again, shall we?” Loki said.

Steve took his position again, and he seemed to have a greater determination now. Loki smiled. Good. He was going to work him hard.

When Loki called it a night, Steve was faring better, but he still had a long way to go.

“I’ll see you here tomorrow night, then,” Loki said. He tossed a bottle of water at Steve, who deftly caught it.

“Thanks.” Steve took a long drink, tilting his head back. This exposed his jaw and neckline, and a little bead of sweat ran down into his shirt. He seemed more model than nanny like this. Steve brought his head down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Why did you go into personal childcare?” It was a question Loki had been wondering since Coulson had found him. Loki knew the basics - army straight out of high school, art school on the GI bill, then childcare classes after that - but that told him nothing about the man that made those decisions.

Steve toyed with the bottle cap, twisting it on and off, as he took a moment to answer. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had this idea when I was younger that I’d be an artist. I still like the idea, but it’s more hobby than anything else at this point.” Steve took another sip of water. “And I thought, well, maybe childcare would be a good thing to start working in. A friend of mine, Sam Wilson, I met him during school, he’s a social worker. He works with kids in the city, and I thought that was kind of cool. I mean-” Steve broke off abruptly. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear my life story.”

Loki snorted. “I asked.” He took a seat on a chair that he’d pushed aside and motioned for Steve to do the same. “Go on.”

Sitting on the edge of his chair, Steve continued, “My mom died when I was about Thor’s age, and I went into the system. Foster home to foster home, me and a couple of other kids in the same boat would run around on our own when we weren’t in school. And there was this one day where we ran into this woman doing a public art project with some kids.” A smile drifted across Steve’s face briefly. Smiles suited him, Loki thought, and he realized it was the first time he’d seen a genuine smile on Steve’s face. “We stuck around, and after a while, she noticed us and asked us to help. It was this huge mural, and it didn’t matter what you painted. We didn’t stick around for long, but I tried to find the place a few days later.”

“And?” Loki said.

Steve’s smile turned rueful. “Painted over. I think it wasn’t actually sanctioned or something, I don’t know. The city apparently considered it grafitti though. Anyway, Sam and I, while we dated for awhile, I got to thinking about that, and maybe I’d like to work with kids on public art projects. Something like that, you know? But…” Steve shook his head with a chuckle. “I thought that childcare would give me a good start, both as experience working with kids and a way to make a little money while I figured out what to do next.”

“It seems a roundabout way of doing things.”

Steve shrugged, brushing off the comment. “Well, here I am.”

“Yes, you are.” Loki leaned back in his chair. Coulson reported the kids enjoyed having Steve around. They had warmed up to him quicker than anyone else Loki had hired.

Maybe he was starting to see why.

 

“Come on, come on, come on!” Tony jumped up and down on his bed, in his suit, and Steve still hadn’t gotten Clint dressed yet.

“Down!”

Reluctantly, Tony stopped jumping and hopped off his bed. “I want to go, come on, come on!”

Steve shook his head, bewildered, as he pulled Clint’s shirt over his head. “I don’t think I’d be excited for a party like this when I was your age.”

“It’s cause of Aunt Pepper,” Natasha said, leaning against the wall and probably somewhat crushing the large bow that Steve had worked hard to properly tie behind her back. “She’s always got a present for him.”

Tony stuck out his tongue. “Is not!”

“Is, too!”

“Is not!”

“Is, too, times infinity.”

Tony was appalled. “You cheated, you cheater!”

“Stop it, both of you, right now.” Steve did not have the patience for this. He felt sick to his stomach. How he was ever going to wrangle the kids among the fancy party guests, he didn’t know. He didn’t even know how to navigate a fancy party himself.

He gave them all another once over, the boys in little suits and Natasha in a black dress that reached her knees, the wide white band of her bow around her middle. Steve straightened his own suit, checking by feel that his bow tie was still in place. Loki had graciously lent him the suit for the evening. “Alright. Shall we?”

Tony, as usual, led the charge.

The ballroom, usually empty except for during Natasha’s ballet lessons, was covered in balloons and streamers, green, gold, silver, and black, very classy. Coulson had been in charge of it, and Steve was very impressed. It was a new room. And the people populating it were even more glamorous. Women in slinky floor-length gowns and men in smartly tailored tuxedos stood in groups, chatting and laughing, and waiters weaved between them with trays of fancy hors d'oeuvres and champagne.

“Aunt Pepper!” Tony focused immediately on a pretty woman in a sequined blue dress and barreled towards her.

She laughed and scooped him up as he made his way toward her. “Hey there, big guy.”

“Did you get me something?”

Natasha pulled at Steve’s sleeve. “Told you,” she said, her face smug.

Steve followed the children as they joined Tony and Pepper.

Amid the kids clamoring for attention, Pepper held out a small, elegant hand and introduced herself. “Pepper Potts. I’m on the board of Asgard Medical.”

“Oh, uh, Steve Rogers. Caretaker. Or nanny. Whichever you prefer.”

She laughed, a delightfully full-bodied laugh that rang out. “Pleasure, Nanny Steve. Now, if I may, I have some g-i-f-t-s for these kids. You don’t mind?”

“Go ahead.” He watched Pepper lead the children away; each of them were beyond excited to see her. Of course, that left Steve without a job to actually do. Crap.

Steve gravitated toward the only other person he knew there. Coulson was deep in discussion with a rather imposing looking man with an eyepatch.

“Mr. Rogers,” Coulson greeted. “This is Nick Fury.”

Fury shook his hand once, his grip firm.

“You work with Asgard Medical?” Steve asked, hoping to find something to talk about.

“No, actually,” Fury said. “I work with SHIELD, a subsidiary of Asgard Inc. that works as a military contractor.”

“Ah.” Asgard Inc. was the parent company for Asgard Medical, but that’s really all he knew. SHIELD, he was mildly more familiar with. Some of his army buddies had talked about joining with SHIELD. Before Steve could mention this, though, Fury turned his attention back to Coulson.

“I was looking for our esteemed host,” Fury said.

Coulson smiled and placed a hand at Fury’s elbow. “This way.” Without anything better to do, Steve trailed behind.

Loki was talking to a large man, the kind of buisness man who probably played football in high school and took very particular care of his physique now. Steve imagined wheat grass and protein shakes and very many regular hours with a busty personal trainer. Coulson introduced him as Stane to Steve, but Stane didn’t appear to have much interest in him.

“Happy Birthday,” Fury said, and Loki thanked him. “I see you’ve been treating Coulson well. Though really, should you need a change of employment...”

Loki arched an eyebrow. “I ask you to not solicit my staff at my birthday party, Fury. There are so many hours of so many days you can try that otherwise.”

“Coulson used to work for me before this one poached him.” Fury said this to Steve, but he was sure it was meant as a stab at Loki.

Loki’s smile was cold. “You say that as if Coulson were a commodity to be traded.”

“Oh, I think we both know his worth.”

Either oblivious to or ignoring the clash of wills, Stane threw an arm around Coulson and said, “Ha ha, oh man, maybe I should be trying to hire you. How does vacation in Maui sound? Ha ha!” He play-punched Coulson. Coulson’s face was impassive, but that made Steve nervous.

“Thank you, sir, I’m happy with my current position.”

Steve wasn’t quite sure what happened, but one moment, Stane had his arm around Coulson and the next, he was standing a good foot away.

“Ha ha, this guy.” Stane pretended to rapidly shoot Coulson with his fingers pointed like guns.

“Well, Nick,” Loki said, ignoring Stane, “how is work going?”

“Let’s not talk about work. Today is all about you.”

“The big four-seven!” Stane chimed in.

“Yes,” Loki said dryly. “Joy of joys.”

Fury continued, “Your father sent you a gift.”

Immediately, Loki’s demeanour closed off. He crossed his arms as best he could while holding a champagne flute. “I don’t want it.”

“But I volunteered to bring it myself, just to see the look on you face. Yes, that one right there.” Loki’s face was indeed drawn tightly into a sour look, lips small and thin. It was as if he smelled something rotten right under his nose. “I promise you it’s suitably audacious with some long family history attached.”

“I’m sure there’s room in the attic for it. Don’t bother unpacking it.”

“That’ll disappoint him.”

“Oh, ouch,” Stane said. “I would have liked to see, uh, what his gift was. Always a pleasure to see the wonders of the Odin family fortune.”

“Take it for all I care,” Loki said.

“Is that an offer? Ha!”

“Maybe the kids would like to see it,” Fury said.

“By the way, where my children?” Loki focused on Steve. Steve had been feeling a little invisible, but among these men, it was probably a good thing.

“Oh, uh, they went to get presents from Pepper Potts.”

Loki’s face grew pinched. “Do rescue them. Otherwise, they may all try to smuggle themselves home with her in her clutch.”

Steve was all too happy to slip away from the tense group to hang out with people with a little more appreciable frankness and fun.

 

Fury and Stane at last shaken off, Loki stood at the sidelines of the party, sipping his champagne. While it was in theory his party, in many ways, this was just another business function, and it was dreadfully dull having to interact with the various members of the board and other assorted people of both his company and his father’s.

Next year, he wasn’t going to bother. It would be held in his office, just by his lonesome, with a fine bottle of single malt whiskey. Maybe Pepper and Darcy could join, if they promised to behave.

And right on cue, Darcy fluttered to his side, all excitement and a little tipsy.

“Loki, darling!” She kissed both his cheeks and then, using him as a shield and a holder for her champagne glass, pulled a small flask from her bosom and took a swig. She offered the flask, but Loki declined. It would probably be a little warm for his taste.

“Darcy,” he greeted. She grabbed his arm in her own, looking as if she wasn’t stealing hits of hard liquor all night.

“Magnificent party, appreciation to Coulson, but really, you could use a DJ.” She gestured over to the band. “They’re lovely, but I’d love to shake my ass a little. Have you seen it? This dress makes it look fucking hot.”

“Lovely,” Loki said, not really wanting to contemplate her ass. He was sure it was lovely, but it wasn’t one he was interested in.

His gaze drifted over the guests. The party was still young, too young to thank everyone for being there, and they could collect their coats in the lobby, thank you.

He saw Steve dancing with his children in the corner as best they could. Bruce and Clint held hands while spinning each other around. Tony was doing his own thing, which ended up being only mildly inappropriate for his age, and Natasha and Thor each held one of Steve’s hands. They were all enjoying themselves. They were probably having the most fun out of anyone there.

“Who is that?” Darcy asked. She raised her champagne flute, taking a careful sip. She eyed Steve as he twirled both Thor and Natasha at the same time.

“The children’s caretaker.”

“A male nanny!” Darcy sounded absolutely delighted, her voice high and excited. “What’s his name? How old is he? What’s his number?”

“I’d prefer you didn’t hit on my staff.” Loki raised his glass for a drink.

“Oooooh, I see.” Darcy looked him up and down with a leer. “Want him for yourself, huh?”

Loki choked on his champagne. “What the hell?” he managed to say.

Darcy rubbed his back. “No, I understand. He’s all yours.”

“He’s not-”

“I totally understand. Bros before hos, he’s all yours.”

“I am not having this conversation with you.”

But Darcy was halfway across the room, taking long strides, the red skirt of her dress billowing out behind her. “Steve?” she called out, still a distance away.

“Damn it.” Loki rushed after her. He caught up just as she stuck out her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lewis,” Steve said.

“Please, call me Darcy!” She laughed affectedly. “You know what, I think there should be more dancing at this party, don’t you?”

“Darcy-” Loki said.

“Well, I-” Steve began.

Natasha grabbed Darcy’s open hand. “Come on, Darcy, I’ll dance with you.”

“Well, I can’t leave Steve on his lonesome.” Darcy looked between Steve and Loki. “You know what, Loki, you should dance with him.”

Loki said, “No, Darcy, I’m-” at the same time Steve said, “Oh, I’m fine, really-”

And then Tony dashed across the floor shouting, “I’m dancing with Aunt Pepper!”

“Tony! Wait-” Steve said, but quickly gave up as Tony disappeared among the guests.

Darcy crouched by Bruce. “D’you want something to eat? Maybe you could ask your big brother to get you something?”

“I can do it myself,” Bruce said, holding Clint’s hand tighter.

Thor picked up Clint’s open hand. “I want food, too! Let’s go.”

Bruce didn’t seem to mind it if Thor was also hungry and followed Thor away.

Darcy straightened up, far too pleased with herself. “I’ll get the band to play something. What’s your poison?”

“Really, it’s fine-” Steve tried again, but Loki cut in.

“Waltz.” He had invested time in teaching Steve to dance. He might as well make use of it.

“I-” Steve glanced around the room, his cheeks red. But he couldn’t seem to find an appropriate excuse. He ran a hand through his hair, making part of it stick up. Loki found it a little endearing. “Ok. Ok.” He gave Loki an awkward grin.

The band started playing an upbeat waltz, and Loki led Steve to a clear area.

Steve settled his hands against Loki’s body as they had during their practice sessions.

“Mind if I lead?” Loki said.

Steve looked a little panicked. “I don’t know how to follow very well.”

“Trust me,” Loki said. “I’m a very good leader.”

Loki started to lead Steve in the dance, half-afraid he would feel pain flare up in his toes. But Steve kept with him, and they crossed the dance floor.

Over Steve’s shoulder, he saw Darcy twirl Natasha, and then Pepper and Tony waltzed into view. Other couples started populating the dance floor. As the first song drew to a close, Loki paused to catch Coulson.

“Keep them going,” he told him.

Coulson nodded, and then Loki took Steve into another dance.

“You’ve gotten better.”

Steve flushed as he said, “The kids have been helping.”

“Well, they did have the best teacher.”

“The same teacher who couldn’t teach me?”

Loki frowned at Steve, but Steve just grinned. Loki let out a laugh and shook his head. Steve could have that one.

When the next song started, and it definitely wasn’t a waltz (Darcy must have gone to the band again), Bruce and Clint ambushed Steve, grabbing his legs, and begging him to dance with them.

Loki let them whisk Steve away. He was going to get something to drink when Darcy hijacked him into another dance.

She leaned in close to whisper, “Having fun?”

“Oh, shut up.”

She giggled and then abruptly dipped him. “Good for you.”

 

Steve was feeling worn out. And he had five worn out children who had eaten too much cake. To be fair, it had been really good cake. He was pretty sure that had been gold leaf on it, too. But it was Loki’s money, he could waste it how he wanted.

Clint was asleep in his arms, and Bruce wasn’t looking like he’d last much longer.

“Bedtime,” Steve said.

The kids protested, but it was little more than half-hearted mumbling.

“Here.” Loki, coming out of nowhere, scooped up Bruce, hefting him up.

“Oh, what about the other guests?”

“Darcy is acting host.”

“Okay then.” Last he’d seen Darcy, she was in a corner climbing some guy, whom Steve thought was maybe an intern. Fardal? Fandral? He’d met so many people that night, it was hard to keep them straight. But he figured he’d pass on mentioning this to Loki.

Between the two of them, they managed to get everyone changed and tucked into bed.

“Hey, um, happy birthday, by the way,” Steve said. “Forty-seven. Old man.”

“Yeah, ha, ha.” Loki loosened his bow tie. “I’m not old until my old man croaks.”

That sounded like a minefield Steve did not want to cross.

“By the way,” Loki said, stopping Steve on his way to his own room, “I’ll be home Thursday afternoon, and I’ve given Jane a paid day off.”

“Yeah?”

“I think playclothes would be a good idea.”

Steve smiled at Loki. “Got it.”

“Good night, Steve.”

As Steve settled in to sleep, he couldn’t help but feel giddy. It had been a good night. A very good night.

 

Steve watched as Loki chased Thor and Natasha around the yard. He caught Thor and began to tickle him, but moments later, Natasha rescued her brother by barrelling into her father, knocking him to the side.

Clint screeched from the side lines, and then pulled Bruce into the fray.

Beside Steve, Tony sniffed dismissively. “Kids’ games,” he said.

Steve smirked and ruffled Tony’s hair. Tony yelped. “Hey!”

“You’re just a kid, too, Tony,” Steve said. “Enjoy that.” He grinned down at Tony, but Tony glared at him.

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

“I can’t make you listen, true,” Steve said, “but you’d cause all of us less strife if you did.”

Tony humphed, and that was all Steve was going to get. Steve chuckled and brushed Tony’s hair back. He didn’t dodge out of his reach.

“You’re energetic, Tony, but you have to remember, not everyone can keep up with you.”

Tony didn’t respond, but he did start keeping his smartalec responses to a minimum. It was a start.

 

Loki sat on the picnic blanket next to Steve with a thud. “Ow,” he muttered, as he rubbed his backside.

Steve choked on his stifled laughter, which made Loki shoot him a look. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been undignified.”

Steve shook his head, grinning. “I was a total klutz until the army got hold of me.” He leaned backward, crossing his hands behind his head. “For all of high school, I was five foot nothing and pretty literally the school punching bag.”

“Bullied a lot?”

“Trying to stop bullies, more often.” Steve sighed. “Got thrown in the dumpster a few times for that.”

“A masochist with a martyr complex, then.”

Steve laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

There was a playful glint in Loki’s eye as he smirked at Steve.

They fell silent, just watching as the kids ran around.

Finally, Steve said, “The kids are really happy you’ve come out with them.”

Loki’s gaze was soft as he watched his children play. “Sigyn used to organize picnics all the time when Natasha and Thor were still little. We still lived in the city then.”

Steve looked Loki over. He was more relaxed than Steve had ever seen him before, even more than that one early morning encounter. Loki rested back, his arms supporting him. One hand was close, and Steve, impulsively, reached out to cover it with his own.

“You’re a lucky man,” Steve said.

Loki didn’t move his hand. He glanced over his shoulder at Steve and just smiled.

 

Darcy leaned forward. “You seem happy.”

Loki kept his focus on the report in front of him. Someone in R&D had suggested another way to cheapen the production of MRI machines without losing quality and continuing to improve them. Question was if it would be financially viable to rework the factory machines to account for this change in production.

“You slept with him yet?”

Loki pressed his lips together, tight. He was not going to grace that with an answer.

“Cause if you haven’t... I’m totally going to tap that.”

“‘Tap that?’ How old are you again?”

Darcy grinned. Loki kicked himself for having gotten sucked into this asinine conversation. “A lady never shares her age.”

“He’s more than ten years your junior. Fifteen even.”

“So?” Darcy shrugged, a coy smile on her face. “I like younger men. So... virile. So eager. So teachable.”

Loki was not amused. “You and your fascination with younger men.”

“Ha!” Darcy pushed herself back. “As if you aren’t interested, too. I’ve seen the way you look at him. Let me tell you, you were not leaving enough room for Jesus at your party.”

“Darcy, are you sure you’re feeling well? Age finally getting to you? Your memory seems a little spotty.”

“Oh, shut up.” Darcy, in her great maturity, tossed a pencil at him. “You certainly gripe less though. I hear that’s because of relief of sexual frustration.”

“I would politely remind you to mind your own damn business.”

Darcy smiled, softly. “It’s a good look on you, you know. Less scary. You being happy, I mean.” That was unexpectedly sweet. And then she ruined the moment by adopting his “scary” appearance. “Haha, I’m Loki! Watch out! You’re fired! And you’re fired!”

“You are impossible.”

Darcy chose to live up to that description as she continued to tease him the rest of the day.

 

He thought about Darcy’s words during the drive home. Maybe he was happier. Did it matter if he was? Was it relevant to his work or Darcy’s business? Not particularly.

The thought of Darcy prowling after Steve, though... That was something he’d like to forget.

Still, it was nice spending more time with the kids. When he arrived home, he didn’t even bother taking off his jacket before wandering the house, looking for them. They weren’t in the playroom, nor were they in the backyard. The library was silent, too. At last, Loki knocked on Steve’s door. There was no answer. He found it unlocked, so he opened the door a little.

Sprawled on Steve’s bed was, unsurprisingly, Steve, a book resting open on his chest. But curled around him in a heap were Natasha, Thor, Bruce, Clint, and Tony. Clint snuggled up closer to Steve in his sleep.

Loki smiled, looking down at them. Yeah, he was happier.

He quietly left to finish up a little work in his office. He must have fallen asleep though, because he woke up in the middle of the night, head on desk, with the last images of a very, very naked and compromised Steve Rogers fading in his mind.

Loki groaned. Damn Darcy.

 

That Saturday, Steve woke early. The sun was just coming up, and the kids were all, thankfully, still asleep and would be for a couple more hours. Steve decided to go for a quick run. He hadn’t in a while, and he could use a return to an old routine.

The grounds were huge, so he didn’t venture very far for fear of getting lost. He stuck close to the house, and when his playlist finished, he made his way inside. He ran into Loki, who greeted him with a smile.

“Steve, there you are. Do you have a moment? I’d like to show you something.”

“Yeah? Let me just grab some water first, ok?”

Steve followed Loki through the house, water in one hand and a towel slung over his shoulders. He kind of wished Loki hadn’t found him until after his shower. Loki, as ever, was fully dressed and smelling mildly of lavender. Beside him, Steve was feeling a little disgusting.

Loki led him toward part of the house Steve didn’t spend much time in. He knew where a good deal of the important rooms were, but there were numerous guest rooms and other areas that Steve had not yet seen.

They entered one of the hallways that consisted of a few guest rooms. He stopped at one at the end of the hall, hand resting on the doorknob.

“Much of this space ends up being just storage. My father sends me too many things, and we need somewhere to put them. But I cleaned this one out recently, and I thought you might make use of it.”

Loki opened the door and let Steve step in before him.

Steve’s jaw dropped. The room was painted entirely white, with a giant window covering up most of one wall. But that wasn’t shocking. It was the cabinets of paint, the stacked frames with unstretched canvas stored nearby. It was the easels and the brushes, all varying sizes. It was the chalks and charcoal, the pencils, the pens, the giant sheets of paper. This room was a fully stocked 2D art studio.

Steve just stared, amazed. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Again, with the gratitude lessons,” Loki said, but he smiled.

“Thank you. I-... Thanks.”

Loki strolled around the room. “I just had some things delivered, and, of course, you could certainly share this room with the children. Teach them some tricks.”

“Yeah.” So art lessons for the kids, huh? That would be fun.

“Of course,” Loki continued, stopping by the giant window, “you’re more than welcome to use this on your own. That is primarily why I refurbished it.”

Steve felt the blush rise, but he didn’t fight it. “That’s… very kind of you.”

“You’ve more than earned it.”

The sun had already risen, but it was still low enough that, with the window facing east, the sunlight shone through and caught in Loki’s hair, making it gleam. It curved around his body, making him appear ethereal.

Even though he was surrounded by hundreds of dollars of art supplies, Steve would have happily settled for Crayola water colors if only he could paint Loki in that moment.

“Steve?” Loki said, looking at him questioningly. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “I’m fine.” He smiled at Loki and willed his heart to slow down.

 

One Saturday morning a couple weeks later, while Steve ate breakfast with the kids and Loki, Coulson came in to announce the arrival of Ms. Darcy Lewis.

Darcy swept in as if she owned the place, decked out in designer clothes.

“I thought I’d take the kids shopping in the city. That’s ok with you, right?” Darcy peeked over the edge of her sunglasses, meeting Loki’s eyes. She arched an eyebrow.

“How can I deny you?” Loki said.

“Really?” Thor grinned, bouncing up and down in his chair.

It took a little wrangling, but soon the kids were dressed and ready for a day trip with Darcy and Coulson.

“In case something happens,” Loki explained to Steve. “It isn’t that I don’t trust Darcy with the safety of my children, it’s just… No, never mind, I don’t trust her.”

Loki surprised Steve by inviting him for a mid-morning walk shortly after the house had emptied. Steve happily accepted. He found that the more time he spent with Loki, the more he uncovered and the more he liked him. And Steve was really enjoying his art studio, which certainly enamoured him to Loki.

Steve still hadn’t seen the full extent of the grounds, so he followed Loki on a leisurely tour.

“I was thinking a family trip would be good for us,” Loki said when they stopped to admire a pond.

“Oh?” Steve said. “Where to?” He supposed he could crash with his friends for awhile. Or maybe Loki would let him stay in the mansion while they were gone.

“I have a home near Nice,” Loki said. “Or if you prefer to see mountains, we could-”

“If I prefer mountains?”

“Yes.” Loki smiled slowly. “You thought you’d be left behind? I don’t think my children would forgive me for that.”

“I…” He didn’t know what to say. “The Mediterranean sounds lovely.”

“Then we should do that before the summer ends.”

Loki moved to a stone bench that sat near the edge of the water. Steve followed him. “This is gorgeous.”

“Yes,” Loki murmured.

A companionable silence fell between them. Steve felt at ease, his heart light. For a moment, he wished he could capture this feeling and keep it. His fingers itched for a sketchbook, either to draw the scene of the quiet pond or to simply move a pencil over paper to get rid of his excess of emotion. He opted for tracing his fingers over the stone bench, and it helped, providing a physical outlet.

“You know, Steve,” Loki said beside him, “I am glad you are here.”

Steve turned with a grin to say something, but then Loki leaned forward. All of a sudden his lips were against Steve’s.

For a moment, Steve didn’t move, stunned by the action. Loki parted his lips, and then Steve pulled back.

He saw a brief flash in Loki’s eyes, although he didn’t know what it was. And then the silence drew out, long and cold, and Steve realized Loki was waiting.

Steve couldn’t process this right now. “I... think I need to go.” Steve fled back to the house, without turning to see Loki’s reaction.

He hid in his room, the light off, and back against the closed door. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Steve let his finger run over his lip. He should have- No, it wasn’t appropriate. But damn if Steve didn’t like that Loki had kissed him.

Shit.

 

This was something Steve and Loki needed to talk about. Over the next week, Steve found himself just staring off in the distance sometimes, which Tony oh so helpfully pointed out was annoying.

One afternoon, the children with their tutor, Steve went into his studio the first time that week. He uncovered his unfinished painting and sat against the wall, just looking at it.

The painting was the best replication he could manage of Loki against the sunlight that one morning. In his head, Steve could see it clearly, but no matter how much he had tried he couldn’t communicate it well on canvas. He had even abstracted it a little, the figure still recognizably Loki, but enveloped in a shroud of light and warmth. No window, no studio, just the caress of light over Loki’s body. Looking at it, Steve knew it held the answer to one question. Steve was a little in love with Loki.

But Loki was also Steve’s employer. It wasn’t a complete non-starter, and if they had a chance to just sit down and talk, maybe they could figure this out.

But nothing was ever that easy, and he didn’t see Loki at all that week or the next. The kids grew disappointed with their father’s renewed absence, no matter what Steve tried to say to reassure them.

And then Clint got sick.

 

Clint was running a fever. Steve held him against his shoulder. He’d stripped off both his and Clint’s shirts, with a cold wet towel pressed between them. He rocked him back and forth, trying to calm his crying. But Clint was so miserable, he couldn’t stop.

When his temperature reached 103, Steve began to really worry.

“Natasha,” Steve said, as Natasha peaked into the room. “Call Dr. Blake. His number is on a list pinned to the wall near my headboard.”

She disappeared into his room, and Steve continued to try to calm Clint.

When Dr. Blake arrived half an hour later, Clint wouldn’t let go of Steve. He examined Clint as best he could while Clint clung to Steve. His voice had worn out, so he was shivering and sniffling.

Clint’s temperature had gone up to 104, and it was continuing to rise.

On the way to the emergency room, Steve called Loki.

 

Loki’s heart was racing when he burst into the hospital. He looked wildly about and spotted Steve sitting off in a corner.

“Where is he?”

Steve was slow to respond. He looked up, his eyes wide and mouth slack. Loki was struck by how young he looked; Steve was just a kid, not even thirty.

“The doctors... I don’t know. You have to ask them.”

Loki grabbed Steve’s arm, jerking him up, and demanded the nurse at the desk to tell him where his son was.

The first person Loki saw in Clint’s room was Dr Blake, standing at the foot of a tiny bed looking at a chart. Loki took a deep breath before looking at his son laying against the white sheets. His face was flushed, almost as if he were sunburned. He panted and groaned. Loki took a faltering step toward him. It was so much like...

Somehow, he made it to the chair by Clint’s bed. Dr. Blake was talking at him, but he couldn’t process what he was saying. He felt a hand on his shoulder, a warm, comforting present, but Loki could not take his eyes off his son.

He stayed like that for hours. He didn’t know if he dozed off or not. At some point, it was pitch black outside. At another, the sun was starting to stream through the blinds.

He pressed his lips to Clint’s hand. Loki didn’t believe in any gods, so he didn’t pray. But he hoped.

 

“Is Clint ok?” Thor asked when Steve came home.

Steve looked at the four faces drawn with worry. Natasha, Thor, Tony, and Bruce sat stiffly in the living room. Coulson, standing off to the side, met Steve’s eyes, gave him a nod, and slipped out of the room.

Steve kneeled on the floor. “He’s not doing well, and the doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him yet. Loki... Your father’s staying with Clint tonight. But it’ll be ok. Dr. Blake’s good at his job. He’ll help Clint.”

“I don’t like him,” Thor said.

“That’s because you only see him when you get sick,” Natasha said, but she didn’t say it with any real bite. None of them had the energy for their usual squabbles.

Steve opened his arms and beckoned the four of them in. Bruce was the first to reach him, and Steve wrapped his arms around all of them.

Tears began to fall, long held back by all of them, and Steve held onto them until all their tears were gone.

 

It turned out to be West Nile fever. Loki didn’t want the kids to see Clint in the hospital. Steve stayed home with them, trying to keep them busy, distracted, and inside as contractors tore up the grounds. The pond where Loki had kissed Steve was the first to go.

It was as if someone had frozen the children. They tended to stare into space, unresponsive. Even the house, somehow, felt colder.

Steve didn’t know what to do. They’d been through this before with their mother. Steve hadn’t asked after her much. It was inappropriate to do so, not when it was still so raw. And they all had been so young when they lost her. He knew what that was like.

The first night, Natasha, Thor, Tony, and Bruce had all showed up at his door together. They ended up dragging blankets and pillows into his room, and they slept together on the floor. They did that every night for the next week.

Steve heard Loki come and go late at night sometimes, but he couldn’t leave the children as they slept.

Coulson told him the diagnosis. Thankfully, it wasn’t severe. Clint would be ok, it would just take a little while. While this was good news, the children accepted it with solemn faces.

“That’s what they said about mom,” Natasha whispered to Steve that night.

He hugged her close and kissed the top of her head.

 

As promised, however, Clint was at last recovering. Soon, he was his usual perky self, and he was just as anxious to get out of the hospital as everyone else was to have him home, but he was stuck there for a few more days.

“Daddy will be here tomorrow, ok, Clint?” Loki said, hugging Clint close to him.

“Ok.”

Steve smiled in the doorway and gave Clint a little wave as they left. This was the first time he’d seen him since he had fallen ill. Today, Loki had asked him to come along, leaving Coulson with the other kids.

Loki was quiet during the ride home in the backseat of the car. Steve’s eyes met Happy’s, Loki’s chauffeur, in the mirror. He was as unsure as Steve as to Loki’s mood.

Loki asked Steve into his office when they got home. Steve picked a spot by the wall as Loki leaned against his desk. All of a sudden, he sighed, shoulders sagging, and he looked exhausted.

“You okay?”

Loki smiled at Steve. Strained though it was, it was genuine. “Yes. I am.”

Steve returned the smile.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“For what?”

“I think my children are happier with you around.”

Steve shook his head. “They’re happier with you around, you mean. They really missed you.”

Loki stared at him for a long moment, his face thoughtful. “No, I meant what I said. And I am, too. Happier with you here.”

He stepped toward Steve. Reaching out, he took Steve’s hands in his own and then slowly ran them up Steve’s arms until he grasped Steve’s shoulders. Loki leaned forward and kissed Steve.

Steve’s own hands came up to Loki’s head, pulling him in. This wasn’t talking about it, but Steve didn’t mind. He wanted this.

Loki pressed Steve against the wall. Steve felt good and warm, heat running through his body. Loki’s hands stroked his hair, tugging through the strands.

His hands ran lower, across Steve’s chest and slowly down his sides.

Steve squirmed under the touch, body flushing. His heart raced, and his mind couldn’t keep up with his body, this was too good.

Loki’s hands reached his hips, and he tugged Steve closer to him, and oh god, this was going too far, too fast, Steve couldn’t, the kids-

“Stop.” Steve pulled back, a little short of breath. “Please. Stop.”

Loki stared blankly at him for a moment. Then, all of a sudden, he stepped back.

“Yes. Of course. Sorry.” He ran his hands through his hair, straightening it back out, since Steve had messed it up. He put himself back together with little adjustments until he was almost as tidy as the day Steve first met him.

Beside him, Steve felt completely undone and exposed.

“Look, it’s not-” Steve tried to say, but he didn’t know what it was even. “I just… You employ me, and…” He thought he had practiced enough what he was going to say, but it was all coming out wrong, the words gone.

“No,” Loki said, a tight smile on his face. “Let’s forget about this, shall we? I apologize for wasting your time. You can see yourself out.”

Steve stood there for a moment, wishing he knew what to say. Everything had been going so right for a moment, and now it was all wrong. Fuck. But he didn’t want to press the issue; he needed time to reorganize his thoughts. Again.

They threw a party for Clint when he came home, smothering him in treats and presents. Natasha, Thor, Tony, and Bruce took turns just hugging him during the whole thing, until he started getting cranky. But although he whined, he let them hold him.

Steve kept out of the way of the family throughout the party.

 

One morning, not long after Clint came home, Coulson called him into his office. “Mr. Odinson thanks you for your service,” Coulson said, smiling as pleasantly as ever. “However, I’m sorry to report that Mr. Odinson has decided to terminate your employment here.”

“What? Why? He can’t-”

“You may finish out the week. On Friday, Happy can take you anywhere you wish. And,” Coulson picked up an envelope on the desk, “here is your severance pay.”

Inside was a thousand dollars. Was he supposed to be flattered or insulted? Steve threw the envelope at the wall of his room, but it hit it with a light smack and a quick slide down to the floor where it got caught in the baseboard.

Steve was going to have it out with Loki. But, ever so conveniently, he had a business trip that would last the week.

In the art studio - no longer his - Steve stared at his painting, still unfinished. He held the paintbrush, black paint dripping from the tip, tightly in his hand. But he couldn’t do it. As angry as he was, when he looked at the painting, Steve simply felt sad.

He covered it up again and hid it in the corner, undecided whether to take it with him or not.

 

Steve made the children a picnic which they ate in the playroom. They were still being kept indoors despite the recent eradication of mosquitoes. He splurged and offered not only their favorite foods, but also lots of chocolate and candy.

The children were thrilled. By the time lunch was done, they practically glowed.

But Steve needed to tell them he had to go.

“Hey, uh, there’s something important I have to say.”

The kids looked up at him expectantly, stretched out on the picnic blanket that covered the carpeted floor. The couches and chairs were shoved to the sides, redecorated with stuffed animals as forests surrounding them. Steve sat on the window seat.

“I’m going to be leaving on Friday. For good.”

For a moment, the children just stared at him, processing this. And then they erupted into shrieks of protests.

“What?”

“No!”

“You can’t go!”

“Why?”

“Steve!”

“Stay! Please!”

Steve closed his eyes tight. They burned. “Sometimes, things just don’t work out for people. I’m sorry. It’s been a really great summer. I’m so happy I got to meet all of you.”

He felt Bruce’s head against his arm. He smiled down at the boy and ran his hand over his curls, loosely pulling them undone. “I’m sorry. I’m going to miss you all.”

“He’s an idiot,” Tony muttered.

“Don’t say that, Tony.”

Natasha, instead of disagreeing with Tony for once, said, “He can say what he likes, because our father is an idiot.” She sat down on Steve’s other side, head falling against his shoulder. “You’re the best thing to happen to any of us, and if he can’t see that, he deserves to be lonely.”

“It’s...” Steve floundered for words. He couldn’t tell them why, but he had to say something. “It’s an adult matter that none of you should worry about.”

“I hate dad,” Thor said.

“Don’t, Thor. You’re old enough to not throw a fit.” But Steve couldn’t say he wasn’t feeling a similar sentiment right now.

As he gave each of the children a tight hug, he felt a hole in his stomach, growing and eating away at him.

On Friday afternoon, he slipped out while the children were with their tutor, unable to say goodbye.

 

Loki was more than happy to arrive home Friday evening, finally out of Darcy’s clutches. Of course, he was also thoroughly ashamed that he had hid out at her place for a week on a “business trip.” But he couldn’t face Steve.

Steve hated him no doubt. But Loki was tired of feeling confused and heartsick whenever he was around. So Loki let him go.

Maybe he was turning into his father.

At dinner that night, his children did not touch their food. Loki remained calm, eating his own steak. When he was finished, he looked at each of them slowly. “If you do not eat what is in front of you, then you will not have any dinner tonight.”

“I’m not hungry,” Natasha said. The others chorused their agreement. “May I be excused?”

Loki pursed his lips, biting back a reprimand. He counted to three before saying, “Fine. I expect you all to be in bed within the hour.”

Five faces looked at him with open distaste, but Loki didn’t give. “If you do not want to eat, then clearly you are done for the day. Bed.” He threw his napkin forcefully at the table, but it slipped to the floor. He repressed a growl and left it there.

When he tried to pick up Clint, Clint started howling. “No! Don’t!” he screamed, over and over.

Natasha plucked Clint from Loki’s arms, and without another word, his children rushed from the dining room.

A silence fell over the room. He heard the trot of feet retreating, Clint no longer crying.

Loki shouldn’t have come home. Clearly, he was no longer wanted.

He headed toward his office to get a drink. But impulse propelled him past it, and he headed toward the studio he had made for Steve. A complete waste of time that had been. He felt vindictive, so he threw the door open with a bang and began knocking paints off shelves. It felt good to kick down the easels, toss the unused canvas aside, and shred the paper. He snapped pencil after pencil, each one breaking with a loud snap and each leading to an ever decreasing sense of satisfaction.

When the last pencil was broken, he found himself embarrassed and ashamed at his behavior. This was absolutely ridiculous. What the hell was he doing?

Steve must have cleared out any artwork from the place. Everything Loki saw among the mess was just raw material. Then, he noticed something in the corner: a covered panting.

The easels were all broken, so he had nowhere to put it up. He just leaned it against the wall and then tore off the cover.

When Loki was met with his own face, a smiling happier man than stood before the painting, he collapsed to the ground, hot tears stinging his eyes.

 

Steve crashed at Bucky and Peggy’s place. He had nowhere else to go.

“What an asshole,” Bucky said, flopping down next to Steve. He passed over a can of beer.

“Education, Steve,” Peggy said from the armchair, hand resting on her large belly. She sipped her water, acting as if she knew all the answers. “Education from now on.”

“And deal with a bunch of asshole parents if I give their kid anything but a glowing review?” Steve took a long drink. “Not likely.”

“But they won’t be your bosses and sexually harass you.”

Bucky added, “And then fire you for it.”

“Asshole,” Peggy said. “You should sue him. If you can win, you’ll never have to work again.”

It was textbook sexual harassment, what with Loki being his boss, but... Frankly, Steve was sad. He really liked Loki. Yeah, he was a bit of an asshole at times, but so were Bucky and Peggy, and he still hung out with them. Hell, Steve could be an asshole, if he was honest with himself. And once Loki had opened up to him, had become a real father to his kids, it had been… It had been some of the best days of Steve’s life.

Maybe it was less of being an asshole than an unfortunate set of circumstances and both of their lack of proper relationship communication skills and emotional maturity. Or something like that.

It was a lost cause. It didn’t matter; this had been one truly fucked up summer. There was no way things would have worked out with Steve still working there.

He missed the kids. He’d let himself get too attached. One way or another, he needed to let go.

There were still some sketchbooks he’d forgotten at the house. Monday, he would go back to pick them up. He had to return the keys he’d accidentally taken with him anyway. And then that would be the end of that.

 

Steve looked at the playroom door; it was shut, and he didn’t have any right to knock and see if the kids were there. Probably not; it was early afternoon, and that meant they would be with their tutors.

He felt like a thief sneaking around. He wasn’t supposed to be there anyway.

In the lobby, he dug around in his pocket for the house keys. He turned them over a moment, feeling the metal, a little warm from his body. As he put the keys on a little table, he felt the finality of the action hit him. This was it. It was all over.

“Steve?”

He froze at the sound of Loki’s voice. For a minute, he didn’t want to turn around. This had been a dumb idea. He should have forgotten about the art. They were just sketches and doodles anyway.

“Just picking up the last of my stuff. Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude. I mean, I still had the keys - sorry - but here. I’m leaving now, I promise. ”

“Steve,” Loki said again. Taking a deep breath, Steve slowly looked up. Loki was closer than he’d thought, only a handful of feet away. He looked a little lost, something that Steve had only seen when Clint was sick.

“I’m sorry, I was just leaving,” Steve said quietly, wishing he hadn’t looked.

Loki took a faltering step forward. “Steve, I’m… I’m sorry.”

A flash of anger flared up. Steve bit his tongue. He was not going to get involved. He wasn’t. He just needed to turn around and leave and be done with it.

“I think I fucked up.”

“You think?” It slipped out, fast and harsh. But it provoked Loki’s own face to contort briefly into bewilderment, then anger, before going back to regretful.

“I don’t know how to be a parent. I don’t know who I am sometimes. Years, trying to live up to my-”

Steve laughed ruefully. “Don’t blame your father for this. Please.”

“What else can I say?”

“Those were your choices, Loki. I don’t know what you were thinking. You can’t ask me.” He didn’t want this happening now, he didn’t want another fight, not now when he was cutting his ties and not while the children were home and might hear.

“It was inappropriate for me to fire you like that.”

Steve could not believe Loki. “It’s inappropriate to make out with your employees.”

“Didn’t I do the right thing then?” Loki clenched his fists. “Ending your service, so as not to continue an inappropriate relationship.”

“It never should have happened in the first place. It’s unfair to me, hell, it’s damned illegal. I needed this job.”

“Sorry I’m not-” Loki bit his lip and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I can’t change what happened. The choice is yours. The job’s yours if you want it.”

There was a damn spark of hope that flared up in Steve. He could come back, maybe, and things would be like they were before. And he would be unhappy, the kids unhappy, and Loki unhappy. Feelings had gotten in the way. “I can’t just take the job back, Loki. It’d be... unethical.”

“I told you, I was in the wrong, and I shall step aside, keep out of your way.”

Steve didn’t know what he had done to make God hate him so much. This was cruel. “That’s depriving your children of their father then. Look, I… I liked it. I like... I like you. A lot. I...” Steve shook his head. “I don’t like feeling used. I wanted to talk, to make it work, but you never gave me a-”

“I’m not using you.”

“Then I don’t know what the hell you’re doing. But I can’t... I can’t work for you anymore. That’s over with.”

“If you won’t take the job... Can I kiss you?”

Steve was stunned. He couldn’t find any words to respond. Part of him wanted to punch Loki for the audacity. The other part of him just thought, hell yes.

“I…” Loki ran a hand around his neck. It made him look oddly young and boyish. “I found your painting. The one of me. It's lovely.”

That damned painting. Steve had forgotten it, too.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking the past couple of days. I sat, just staring at that painting for hours, and… And I want you back, Steve. I want to try doing this right. And if you won’t work for me, then… would you like dinner? To start?”

Steve felt warmth spread through him, his heart pounding, his palms sweating. “Dinner sounds great,” he said, his voice sounding strained.

Loki approached, and Steve met him halfway. They leaned forward until their lips met. Loki raised his hand to rest against Steve’s neck. This still didn’t fix things. Steve didn’t know what this would accomplish. But if he wasn’t working for Loki anymore, maybe there could be something to this. Maybe dinner could be more than just dinner. Because damn it, Steve wanted there to be. Somehow along the way, he began to care about Loki more than was sane to.

“I love you,” Steve said, quickly and breathlessly. Loki chuckled.

“Good.” He kissed Steve again, slowly. “I love you, too. And I’m not hiring you again, Mr. Ethics.”

“Good.”

 

Natasha saw herself as a very responsible girl. It came from being the eldest and almost thirteen, and while she liked Steve, she sometimes thought to herself that she did not need a babysitter anymore. And she looked out for her younger brothers, even if they could be absolutely awful, like Thor usually was. That’s why she had to bully him, to keep him in line.

Since she was a responsible girl, when she saw her father and Steve practically making out in the lobby, she fetched her brothers, giving their tutor the slip, made them swear to be silent, and then led them to hide on the stairs to watch.

Tony was leering, and he probably would have said something snarky and six-year-old-like if Natasha hadn’t given him a quick glare. Thor, being a bit more slow on the uptake, did open his mouth, and Natasha grabbed him, stifling him with a hand.

“Not. One. Word,” she breathed in his ear. Thor nodded, but she didn’t trust him enough to let him go. They stayed like that, watching their father and, hopefully, Thor would later say, their father-to-be kiss.

But then Clint sneezed, which he couldn’t help at his age, and Loki and Steve broke apart, Steve’s blush stronger than any Natasha had ever seen. Her father, however, looked angry, and being responsible and almost an adult, Natasha jerked Tony back from the banister, scooped up Clint, and led them running to hide on the grounds outside while Loki and Steve gave chase.

It was a good afternoon.


End file.
